Adrift in on the wide-open sea,
I am trapped inside my own prison.
Unable to enjoy the world outside,
I hide in a cage built of self-doubt.
Abandoned on a lonely beach,
The vultures pick my bones.

My journal of big words and pretty pictures
Adrift in on the wide-open sea,
I am trapped inside my own prison.
Unable to enjoy the world outside,
I hide in a cage built of self-doubt.
Abandoned on a lonely beach,
The vultures pick my bones.
Oh Tara, you know just how to weave emotions into a story, to leave us as we hold our breath at the end of your words. This was just….haunting.
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I like the image a lot, its the texture and shadows does it for me.
Here is another ‘cage’ you may be find interesting wp.me/a35qb6-gl
This was used pre WWII in the back street tenements and slums of London to give the children sunlight and fresh air to stop conditions such as rickets. Image if it was suggested nowadays.:-)
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Hauntingly beautiful.
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Beautiful words 🙂
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Thanks, Adam.
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you are very welcome 🙂
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